


When I close my eyes, I dream of how things could've been

by alyciatheist



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/F, Mentions of Rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-20
Updated: 2015-05-20
Packaged: 2018-03-31 10:44:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3975169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alyciatheist/pseuds/alyciatheist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sansa imagined she’d fall in love with a knight who’d kiss her sweetly and make her blush. He’d protect her and promise her no one would ever do her any harm. And they were going to be happy. Living a very happy and long life. Thinking back, Sansa knew those were just stupid dreams. Stupid dreams from a stupid little girl. Her life certainly didn’t turn out the way she had expected it to be.</p><p>This is my take on Sansa's ending of 5x06. There are mentions of rape but I've tried to keep it as minimal as possible.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When I close my eyes, I dream of how things could've been

When Sansa was younger she used to dream about her wedding.

She imagined she’d fall in love with a knight who’d kiss her sweetly and make her blush. He’d protect her and promise her no one would ever do her any harm. He was the gentle knight her father would approve of.

He’d take her hand on her wedding day and he’d kiss her sweetly while promising to be a good husband. He’d make her laugh but most of all he’d make her happy.

When night fell, he’d take her to their chambers and he’d carefully take of her clothes, before gently kissing her.

And they were going to be happy. Living a very happy and long life.

Thinking back, Sansa knew those were just stupid dreams. Stupid dreams from a stupid little girl. Her life certainly didn’t turn out the way she had expected it to be.

She never understood why her mother had looked the way she had when Sansa had said she wanted to marry Joffrey. That she couldn’t wait for it to happen. She did now though, she had learned that the hard way. Sometimes she had wished had mother had warned her, had said something. Her mother hadn’t however, and now she was never going to warn Sansa ever again.

She had wished for Loras then, who was indeed a sweet gentle knight. Surely he perhaps was not in love with her the way she would wanted him to be, but he could protect her. He could make her happy. He could take her to High garden, far away from Westeros. Margaery had said High garden was a beautiful place and had promised it would make her happy.

But everyone always  made promises to her. Her father for one, he had once promised that everyone was going to be fine. But he was dead now, just like her mother, her brothers, even Arya. Promises surely weren’t there for one to keep.

She didn’t marry Loras though, because she was already promised to the Imp. The Imp, not even half the size of Sansa herself. An ugly scar right across his ugly face. It wasn’t the knight Sansa had dreamt off.

He wouldn’t take her that night. He hadn’t. Surely he was a bit hurt when she had told him that perhaps she was never ready to lay with him, ever.

But he had understood her, because even though the Imp was a Lannister, he wasn’t as cruel as his family. For a while Sansa was even glad that she had married the Imp. It was better than the alternative. An alternative with the name Joffrey.

Margaery had promised her that Joffrey would never hurt her again, and Sansa had believed her, because who could ever not believe a girl like Margaery. Her sweet smile, her words so gentle and genuine. She never had made Sansa feel like an outsider, even though she certainly was.

She also thought that perhaps she and the Imp had more in common than she thought, that given more time she could learn to be a good wife. Like her mother had done with her father. Maybe one day she could even love him. Perhaps.

That until his family had murdered her father and brother.

At least Margaery had not broken her promise. Joffrey was gone now. It should’ve made Sansa feel better, but it didn’t. Everything had lead her right back to Winterfell.

To Ramsay. Ramsay with his stupid smile. And Theon. Or Reek. Or whatever he was called.

Sometimes she felt bad for him, because she could see Theon wasn’t the boy she had grew up with. Of course her feelings were always replaced with anger and coldness, because Theon had killed her brothers. He didn’t deserve her forgiveness.

She didn’t think anyone did.

She stood beneath the tower that Bran fell from a long time ago. It almost felt like a lifetime ago, perhaps it was. Winterfell wasn’t the same. She certainly wasn’t.

Sometimes she let herself think about her childhood, linger on the happy moments, her father and her mother. Her brothers, the time she spend with her friends. Even her childish fights with Arya seemed like just silly memories.

Often she pushed back those memories because she knew lingering on such memories wouldn’t do any good. It would make her just more sad.

Even though it had been ages since she had left Winterfell, it some ways, it also didn’t feel like that at all. If she closed her eyes it almost felt nothing had changed at all. As if everything in Westeros hadn’t happened. As if her parents were still alive. Nothing good had come from Westeros. Just pain and misery.

 _That’s not fair though_ , Sansa thought. Margaery had been kind.

But Margaery was miles and miles away from her. She wished she could talk with her, ask her advice, the way she had asked her a lot of times. Advice Margaery was always happy to give, or even demonstrate.

Instead she had to rely, like usually, all on herself. So, there she stood under the tree that had once been beautiful, the cold of the weather making her shiver.

She didn’t take Theon’s arm though, she couldn’t. She wouldn’t. He had killed her brothers, she didn’t care what Ramsay would do to him.

But then often she did wonder what Ramsay would do. She had heard he was a cruel person. Very cruel. She had faith however, that he wouldn’t hurt her. Littlefinger had promised her that Ramsay had promised him not to ever hurt her. Ever. He’d be a good husband, he said.

But Littlefinger wasn’t here anymore, his promises didn’t mean anything. Not to Ramsay anyways. When did she ever learn?

Of course she had known she would’ve to lay with him, but she hadn’t thought that it would happen this way. Her dress ripped apart, Theon watching in agony. Ramsay with his stupid mocking smile.

This wasn’t the way she had expected her first time with a man would be like. But then, Ramsay was just a stupid cruel boy.

Margaery had said to her that sometimes the first time hurts, but that it was never her fault. She should close her eyes, and perhaps imagine someone else. Because sometimes we aren’t with the people we would want to be with.

It seemed so simple. But in reality it wasn’t. It wasn’t sweet nor gentle. It hurt. And she could feel a tear falling on her cheek. _No, you must be strong, don’t let him see you cry._

She closed her eyes..

Sansa had blushed and said that she didn’t even know how to do it in the first place, lay with someone. How could she ever imagine someone else then.

Margaery had taken her hand and had explained, and Sansa was a bit ashamed. Just a bit though, because Margaery had looked in her eyes. Her eyes soft and gentle, she didn’t think it was a stupid question at all.

 _She must have learned this from her mother._ Sansa had thought and even asked.

Margaery had smiled, but it was a sad smile. Sansa understood, because she knew that Margaery knew that her first time was going to be with the Imp and that it wasn’t going to be as sweet and gentle as Sansa thought her first time was going to be.

Sansa had tried to smile, but a tear was now rolling down on her cheek, and Margaery had slowly swept away the tear with the tip of her finger. The care of the notion had made Sansa more sad and she was now crying.

Margaery had hugged her tightly, her hands softly massaging Sansa’s back, softly leaving kisses on Sansa’s cheek. Telling her sweet words, promising that everything was going to be just fine.

In that moment Sansa looked at Margaery and she had felt at peace. Margaery hands were now resting on Sansa’s knee, her face a little bit closer than just moments before. Margaery smelt like roses, it almost made Sansa laugh.

Instead, without knowing why or how, she was now just inches away from the older girl’s face who was looking at her rather intensely now.  Her eyes perhaps trying to tell Sansa something, but she wasn’t quite sure what, she nodded her head nevertheless. Perhaps she did know.

And what had happened next was something Sansa had never thought would happen, or could. Nor had she expected it had made her feel the way she had felt then.

Margaery had closed the space left between them with a sweet kiss. Then, to Sansa’s surprise, the older girl’s lips were now on Sansa’s neck, leaving kisses everywhere Margaery was able to leave one. Sansa didn’t care, because it felt good. Oh, it had felt great.

Ramsay didn’t leave kisses, instead he had forced himself on her. She was lying on her back and Ramsay was enjoying himself while she was now looking at a white wall before her. She forced to close her eyes again. _It’s going to be over soon. You have survived many things and you’ll survive this too._

Margaery had taken her to her bed. Slowly removing Sansa’s clothes, every move slowly, making sure Sansa agreed with everything she did. Sansa did though.

Before she knew Margaery was lying on top of her, kissing Sansa with passion. Then leaving kisses everywhere. But Sansa wanted more. Oh god, she never knew someone could make her feel this way. ‘’ _Margaery.’’_ She had said. ‘’ _P-please.’’_ She regretted the moment she said it because it made her feel weak and Margaery was sure going to laugh at her.

But Margaery didn’t, instead she nodded. Her right hand slowly falling on Sansa’s skin, lingering a little bit longer on Sansa’s stomach before finally giving Sansa the pleasure she yearned for, and deserved . All the while, Margaery had never taken her eyes off her.

And it had felt so good.

Her body was not hurting the way it did now. But at least Ramsay was done now, and had left her chamber.

She had looked at Margaery when they were lying in Margaery’s bed, her arms around Sansa. _Thank you._ She wished to say. _Thank you for making my first time gentle and sweet._ But Margaery had understood her just by looking at her. She nodded again and left a kiss on her forehead. 

She opened her eyes now.

And in the dark she cried.

And she should’ve listened to herself that lingering on memories would never do any good.

It only made you wish for things to be as they used to be. As you wish they could be, knowing you could never have it.

She closed her eyes again,

But was left with nothing but darkness.

 


End file.
